


The Simultaneous Breaking of Tradition and of Natasha Romanoff

by MissObsession



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Tree, Depression, F/M, Family Loss, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, References to Depression, Sad and Sweet, Separation Anxiety, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissObsession/pseuds/MissObsession
Summary: Natasha can't hold it together on the first Christmas Eve since the snap, and Steve tries to help her cope with their new normal. After Infinity War, during the 5 year time skip in Endgame.  Non compliant with my other fics, but The Christmas Tree Decorating Contest/The Night Wanda Forgave Tony would explain the tradition displayed in this.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	The Simultaneous Breaking of Tradition and of Natasha Romanoff

**Author's Note:**

> I always get depressed after Christmas, so join me in my angst. Also, I never appreciated Nat and Steve more than when she was crying and eating her peanut butter sandwich, so there's that too. Also inspired by Nats Endgame quote...

“I used to have nothing. Then I got this. This job. This family. And I was… I was better because of it. And even though they’re gone… I’m still trying to be better.”  
-Natasha Romanoff-

It was quiet this year. It was always quiet now. Under any other circumstances she would appreciate it, but not this silence. It was only an ugly reminder of her failure. With tears in her eyes, Natasha answered the door to the compound as the Christmas trees she had impulsively ordered arrived, and had the delivery men take them up to the old living room. She signed for them, tears threatening to spill over, and once she was alone, collapsed and sobbed helplessly on the ground. Why was she doing this to herself? After a while, she lay on the floor, letting the bleached ends of her hair flare out and began to pick at the split ends. She hadn't been able to bring herself to dye it back yet, and her hair had grown longer than she had ever kept it. Wanda had helped her lift the red from her hair in some shitty motel back when they were still fugitives. She could have done it alone of course, but it was nice to have company, and in the dreary times it had been fun to give each other the required makeovers to retain their cover. Now it was a reminder of the young girl who had lost so much, and fought so hard, and still died. No. Tears threatened to return at the thought of her friend being gone forever. She wasn't dead. None of them were, she needed them to not be. She was torn from the recesses of her mind by Steve.

"What's all this?" He leaned in the doorway, looking at the trees against the window.

"You know what it is." Nat didn't move to look at him, his expression would probably make her cry.

"Why did you get so many…" there was pain in his voice as he walked up to the trees, glancing at the boxes of ornaments and lights and garland piled on the couch. "We really only need one now Nat."

"I know." Natasha's voice wavered as she sat up to look around the room. "It's just hard. We used to have fun at Christmas. We were a real family."

"This just makes it harder to move on." He sighed and sat on the couch, crinkling packages of garland. The trees were lined up for the Annual Avengers Christmas Tree Decorating Contest. Only there wasn't a contest this year, half of the Avengers, half of everyone, was gone. Dusted in the snap. Natasha picked at her nails, which were painted. That reminded her of simpler times too, of her secret sleepovers. Sipping vodka cranberries as she lay on the floor in Wanda's room painting the girls toes as Wanda denied feelings for Vision and they laughed because they both knew she was lying. Simpler times. She thought of all these things she was doing to hold on to her fallen teammates, the trees, growing out her hair, painting her nails, it was entirely against her red room training. She had thought she was too far gone, taken to a place of no return, yet here she was. Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow, crying on the floor on Christmas Eve because she missed her friends. They made her a better person. They had grown on her no matter how tough she made herself seem.

She began to cry again, tears of deep sadness at their loss. Steve sat down beside her, his presence giving her comfort. After a while, he silently stood, and began rifling through the decorations. He piled sorted boxes in front of each tree, and set to work. Natasha sniffled and watched as he worked, then lost it again as the sight clicked in her head. Each tree was a tribute to a teammate. Striking red and gold was a monument to Wanda and Vision, the red globe ornaments stood out wonderfully against the shimmering golden garland weaved between the boughs. Silver and black, with speckles of red was Steves solemn tribute to Bucky and Sam, his two closest friends. Purple and silver rained down the next tree for T'challa and Shuri, who had helped them immensely while they were fugitives, who had helped Bucky and tried their hardest to save Vision. The last tree was laced with red and blue, some black thrown in, and Natasha could only guess it was to honor the Spiderman, as well as Dr Stephen Strange, keeper of the time stone.

Steve sat beside her on the floor, and she laid her hand over his. "Steve, they are beautiful." She whispered.

"Couldn't let them go to waste." He sighed, trying not to choke up, "Not after the trouble you went through to get them here."

"I miss them." Tears blurred her vision again as she thought back. She had finally opened up to someone. To Wanda, as they were fugitives in hiding. They stayed up all night like middle school girls and giggled and kicked ass all day like sisters on incognito missions. Wanda and Vision had just realized their feelings and were beginning to explore them after he snuck away from Stark to be with her. It was bittersweet. She could still hear Sams roaring laughter as he made the best of times with Steve in their safe houses. Now it was silent. The rest of them had made their peace, but it still wasn't the same. Clint was missing after discovering his family had been erased, Tony moved to the country with Pepper, Bruce took time away to be alone. So it was her and Steve at the compound. No reason to train, no reason to spar. She thought she would be more alert after all of this, more on edge, but she felt numb. Sadness had overcome her and she spent all her time trying to come up with a way to fix everything, to get everyone back. Steve had been gentle and understanding, giving her space and adjusting to her new character that had seemingly come from thin air, no longer guarded and distant, she wanted to be close to him now, almost afraid to be alone, like a kid. She wasn't helpless, just lost. He didn't question it, he just let her do what she needed. Everyone had their own ways of coping.

"Do you want to do the honors?" He gestured to the plug for the lights.

"Yeah." She crawled forward, a tear streaking her cheek as she bent under Wanda and Visions tree to plug them in, and more fell as she sat back to take in the silent twinkle of the pale white lights laced in the trees. Steve crept up, sitting with his legs crossed beside her, and laid a hand on her leg as she sniffled. Natasha Romanoff always had feelings, she just hadn't known it yet.


End file.
